Ice and Dagger
by Blithe Novelties
Summary: Natalya Alfroskaya was known to be an absolutely stunning woman, with long platinum blonde hair, dark blue eyes, and a good figure, but even more suprising than her physical features-and a fact even more well known-was the fact that she was as equally as dangerous. AU-Human names used. Drabble-ish. (Yet another parody of sorts on how Belarus's personality is taken by some fans)


**Translation: "Brat" is the phoentic spelling of the Ukrainian word for "brother"**

_**Hetalia belongs to Hidekz Himaruya**_

APH: Ice and Dagger:

Natalya Alfroskaya was known to be an absolutely stunning woman, with long platinum blonde hair, dark blue eyes, and a good figure, but even more suprising than her physical features-and a fact even more well known-was the fact that she was as equally as dangerous. With wits as sharp as one of the knives she always kept on her person and a fiery temper, the Belarusian was one person whom sensible people should not intangle their lives with, as discovered by several who had either willingly (foolish as it were) or accidently caught the young woman's eye.

Her stepbrother, Ivan Branginski, had unintenitionally snagged her interest on the date of the marriage between her father and his mother; soon after, Natalya had begun pursuing the man-who was only slightly older than herself by about a few months to a year-stating that since they were not related by blood that it would not be sinful for them to form a union by the act of matrimony. Another common reason for as to why they should be wed, as she had pressed, was that they had both come from politically powerful backgrounds, and, that by marrying, said power would increase, leaving them with an incredible amount of control.

Ivan, believing that she had completely lost her sanity, had her shipped off to America, though, Natalya made it known that she wasn't going to leave the gorgeous Russian mansion that had become her home without _some_ form of revenge, without a final warning to those who dared to cross her.

XxX

It was Yetkaterina, Ivan's other (and older) sister who had found him, alone in his room, clutching one of his hands tightly, to his chest as a child would with a toy they are trying to protect from the horrors of the world.

_"...Brat? _What is the reason for you holding your hand? Did you hurt it?" A soft spoken and caring woman, Yetkaterina could not help but be concerned, especially when her sweet Ivan continued staring blankly at the wall, either not hearing her, or refusing to answer.

"...Ivan?" He turned to face her, his nearly violet eyes meeting her blue ones, the orbs still holding the same blank stare. Confusion eventually replaced the emotionless expression his face once held, and his gaze flickered downwards to his hand. The blonde shifted it slightly, but it was enough to reveal rich, crismon blood flowing from a gash in his palm.

Taking his hand so as to access the damage, a single question slipped from her lips, "Who...?"

"Natalya," Ivan answered, scowling as the other uncurled his fingers and began temporarily dressing the wound with a pale pink handkercheif. "A going away present."

"Can't we-"

"She's already gone, Yetkatrina. There is nothing we are able to do."

XxX

While in America, the young woman had befriended, or rather formed something more or less of an alliance of sorts with the son of one of the Braginskis's greatest rivals, a friendly young man by the name of Alfred F. Jones, whose personality was as sunny as the golden locks atop his head. After she had become his private secretary-a job, while terribly boring and consisted of listening to Alfred's ridiculous ramblings, paid well enough-he had taken to calling her "Desktop Buddy." It was not a nickname she rather liked, but Natalya gritted her teeth and dealt with it, silently counting down the days until she saved enough up to return.

It wasn't long before a friend of Alfred's, a slightly shy brunette who had moved to the States from Lithuania about five years back had heard word of her by way of mouth. Toris, growing a deep infaturation for the "tough Belarusian beauty" from what her employer had told him about her (little as it was, since she rarely, if ever, told the bespectaled American information about her life, and even even then, it was never a detailed account), had inquired, if it was possible, to go on a date with her.

After three years, Natalya eventually relented; after being endlessly pestered, the Belarusian began to wonder herself if it was time to leave the past behind and move on with her life.

The date had actually started off well enough, however, it was when she discovered that her date had once known Ivan, years ago, that the night took a turn for the worse; the Belarusian strode out of his apartment, dinner untouched, leaving the (heartbroken) Lithuanian with all of the fingers on his right hand broken.

That night, upon arriving at her apartment, the platinum packed her bags and fled the country, once again, leaving all she knew or had come to know behind her.

Her destination, one chosen on a mixture of whim and where she could afford to go, was the rainy country of England.

There, another person caught her eye, one Arthur Kirkland, an English university professor. However, the thick browed Englishmen completely ignored her advances, much to her annoyance and dismay, though, not out of rudeness-as he was a gentleman (or so he claimed)-but because there was something warning him against becoming close to the foreign beauty, something telling him that she would be just as quick to (literally) stab him in the back as she would to befriend him.


End file.
